The Slayer of The Walking Dead
by Zannna
Summary: Livvie is far from home, and can never go back. She thought she could be happy here. Build a life. Then The Walkers came. The only thing left to do is survive. And kill as many of those undead Walker bastards as possible. Daryl/ OFC
1. Chapter 1: No One Left to Hear You

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I am making no money off of this story. I do not mean anything religious with this chapter. I am using a fictional interpretation of 'God' etc, as is done in Buffy. I do not mean any offense to anyone. I also don'y own Rambo.

Additional Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. ß I like this one because it thoroughly covers my ass.

Time line: Post Chosen for Buffy, and near the end of the first episode of Season 2 for The Walking Dead.

A/N: My character in this story is an OC Slayer from the Buffy verse, thrown into the Walking Dead verse. There will be no other Buffy characters, except in flashbacks.

Rating: FR21- there will be violence, language, death, and mayhap a little romance later ;)

Rick Grimes had just finished giving his desperate plea to the statue in the church. He was begging for a sign, begging for answers, begging for validation.

Livvie thought he was a fool. He should be keeping his faith in his family and friends, because she knew for a fact:

"He won't answer you you know." She said loudly into the silence. Rick spun around and aimed his gun at the intruder. Shane jumped up, and keeping Carl behind him, entered the church at the noise of another voice. Livvie stood and walked slowly closer to Rick. "He can't," she said with conviction.

"Yeah, well, how the hell do you know that?" Shane snarled. Rick was close enough to the edge as it was, and he didn't need some random chick spouting off some Aeithiest shit to take away his last grasp at sanity.

Livvie looked over at Shane with a condescending smirk on her face. "Because this world has been forsaken. No Gods or Goddesses can interfere or even communicate with this world anymore. The borders have been closed." She waited a beat for dramatic effect. "Permanently." She crossed her arms. "We're on our own here. Live. Die. Right. Wrong. Good. Evil. That is all on us now."

Shane lowered his big gage slightly and looked at Rick out of the corner of his eye. Rick had the same cautious mean about him now. They had both dealt with crazy people before, and it was a delicate operation.

Rick sheathed his gun, and raised his left hand in supplication. "Hey, now," he said softly. Cautiously. "It's alright. Let's just calm down here and talk this out."

Livvie snorted. "I'm not the one waving guns around at people, and praying to a hunk of ceramic. Look to thine own self first," she said sarcastically. She looked down at herself briefly. She had a gun with a silencer attached holstered at her right hip, several large knives strapped to her waist and thighs, a katana strapped to her back, and a pair of Sai's strapped over the top of her boots. Okay, so she might seem a bit threatening to strangers. "If I wanted to kill you, you'd already be dead. I don't kill the living." She tilted her head to the side thoughtfully. "Well, at least not the living who deserve to live. I killed a couple rapists last month." She changed her stance so her hands were on her hips with her feet spread shoulder width apart. "I don't take well to men who prey on women and children." Her eyes sparked dangerously at them.

Shane finished lowering his weapon in consternation. She was just a kid! How the hell did she even find those weapons, let alone use them? "How old _are_ you? What are you doin' running around strapped up like Rambo, and all by yourself?"

Livvie glared at the man-pig. "How old I am is none of your business." She turned back to Rick. "I'm here doing you a favor. JC can't hear you, don't go looking for signs out there based on some desperate belief that God is listening."

Rick glanced at his son briefly before huffing out an angry breath. "How would you know? How do you know for certain that he isn't there? Just 'cause you don't believe doesn't mean you're right and other folks are wrong."

"Oh he's 'there' alright. Just not 'here,'" she replied shortly. These men were getting on her nerves even more than they were before. "Like I said: He can't hear you. This world is closed now to all higher beings. Quarantined. No communication. Nobody in or out. Both sides agreed, and shut down the dimensional walls together. There is no way _he_ or any other God or Goddess, good or bad, can hear you." She softened her stance a bit. "You are better off keeping your faith in your family and friends. Their isn't anyone else than can do anything for you."

This girl seemed so certain. Like there was no question in her mind about this. Rick wasn't sure what to make of her. The girl sighed, and walked forward slowly, with her right hand stretched out towards Rick.

"I'm Olivia **McKinley**," she said, looking him straight in the eye. They shook hands firmly. "Call me Livvie." A little too firmly if the grimace on Rick's face was anything to go by.

"Sherriff's Deputy Rick Grimes," he said.

"Huh. Oops. Didn't mean to squeeze that hard." Said Livvie apologetically.

"No, no. It's fine," said Rick trying to preserve some of his masculinity. "This is Shane, and my son Carl."

She nodded shortly to them. "Do you guys always come crashing into places like you own them? Like you know what's best, and to hell with everyone else?"

The males all looked confused. "What? You own this church, or somethin'?" scoffed Shane.

"Uh, no," said Livvie caustically. "But I have been working for the last twelve hours on a Walker trap, that you and your people ruined."

"Why the hell would you want to trap Walkers?" said Carl. It was the first time he had spoken, and Livvie thought it showed his intelligence that he waited to talk until it was important.

"Carl!" snapped Rick and Shane together.

"If your mother hears you talk like that she _will_ wash your mouth out with soap! I don't want to hear language like that again!" lectured Rick.

"To kill them of course!" said Livvie. "I kill all I can so that one day the population will be low enough for us to rebuild." She was talking directly to Carl. He had shown initiative, and she was willing to respect him by speaking to him instead of addressing her answer to his father. "I have to burn them when I'm done, of course. The whole point is to lessen the environmental impact of Walkers, so there will be clean soil and water in the future. So we can live in peace again."

She turned back to the men. "I hauled a generator, and 30 gallons of siphoned fuel all the way out here to get that bell working! And you lot just barge in and destroy it! What the hell?" she cried angrily.

"We didn't know," Rick started conciliatorily.

"Well, no shit you didn't know! You didn't care to know either! You need to be more careful, perform some recon, or you're going to mess something up for someone a hell of a lot less forgiving than I am!" she argued.

"Look, Ms.**McKinley** ," said Rick.

"Livvie!" she cut in.

"Livvie," said Rick reluctantly. His mother would have killed him for addressing a lady he didn't know so informally. But somehow he didn't think annoying this girl anymore than she was would end well. "We're sorry we ruined your trap. Come back to our group with us, and we'll try to make it up to you. We have a bit of food, and fresh water. And some of us can even make good conversation."

"Hell!" said Shane. "You bring that generator, and fuel with you. Cut back on some of yer crazy talk, and you'd be more than welcome to come with us!"

"If you help us find Sophia, all the girls in our group would love you! And I'd be really grateful too!" added Carl.

Livvie laughed softly. "It's both horrible, and encouraging to see one so young acting so old. Would that it didn't have to be that way, but you'll live a lot longer the faster you grow up." She ruffled his hair affectionately. "Who's Sophia?" she asked him.

"Sophia's my friend!" said Carl hurriedly. He liked being treated like what he said mattered. Lately he had been feeling invisible, even when he did something really helpful. Like finding that roll of tools. That was a valuable find; He knew it was. But no one seemed to be grateful, or acknowledge his role in finding them at all. "We were hiding under cars on the freeway when a herd of Walkers came by! When most of them were gone past us, Sophia tried to get out, but there were still two Walkers near her. She got scared and ran, and they followed her into the woods. My dad went after her, and killed the Walkers, but she ran off when she should have stayed put, and we've been looking for her ever since!" he reported succinctly.

"How old is Sophia?" asked Livvie.

"About 11?" asked Shane looking at Carl. Carl nodded.

"How long has she been out there?" Livvie continued.

"Almost 36 hours now," said Rick.

"Where was she last seen?" she asked. Rick was beginning to feel as if she were a cop, and he was the witness.

"By a river about five miles from here. I had her hide under a tree on the bank, so that I could kill the Walkers without her getting hurt. She was gone when I came back. We tracked her to about halfway back to the freeway, but then we lost her." He said. He figured he may as well answer her questions. It couldn't hurt.

"Good plan," said Livvie. Rick looked surprised and vaguely pleased at the praise. "After you find her, you need to teach both her and Carl what to do in those kinds of situations. In the moment fear and adrenalin can make it hard to think, so it helps to make up plans for different scenarios so they know what to do. And you knowing what they would do, will help you keep them safe." She finished.

"Let's head out and find her," decided Livvie. "Then I can come back for the fuel and the generator. You have vehicles, I'm guessing?" she asked.

"Yeah, and there are plenty on the freeway if you need your own." Said Rick.

"I do need a new one. My last one had the under carriage torn up on my way out of a city on a supply run." She recalled. "It was a cheap little thing, like a tin can, got all crumpled up on Walker bones," she sighed sadly.

The boys grimaced. "It had great mileage though," she reminisced. "I just gotta find one that's though, and light on fuel." Her head tilted to the side thoughtfully. "Maybe take an old steal frame, and put in a Hybrid or electric engine? Put some Solar cells on the roof, run some cables to some battery storage cells? Damn, where's a mechanical engineer when you need one?" she turned and picked up her long leather jacket. "Well, lets head out boys." She swung her coat on and headed for the door.


	2. Chapter 2: A Walk in the Woods

Time line: Post Chosen for Buffy, and near the end of the first episode of Season 2 for The walking Dead.

A/N: My character in this story is a Slayer from the Buffy verse, thrown into the Walking Dead verse. There will be no other Buffy characters, except in flashbacks.

Rating: FR21- there will be violence, language, death, and mayhap a little romance later ;)

Rick had no idea what to make of this girl. And girl she was. She couldn't be more than 18 or 19 on the outside. She was bristling with weapons, and yet hadn't made a threatening move towards them. Even when they had their guns drawn on her.

She was beautiful in an unconventional way. Like you don't know what to make of it at first, but the longer you look the more pretty she was. Long dark hair, he couldn't tell how long as it was braided and gathered into a bun. She was tall, maybe 5'9, with hazel eyes, and a body that he really shouldn't be looking at. Let's just say she had a _lot_ more curves than he was used to.

She was wearing a lot of leather; Black leather boots that stopped above her knees, red leather pants, and that long black leather coat. She also had a large leather satchel that she had swung on across her chest and over her coat. It had a second strap that looked home made, that she fastened about her like a belt. He could see it made it bag stay in place, even when she had jogged down the church steps. The shirt he had seen on her before she put her coat on, looked like a tank top with a long sleeved T-shirt over the top. He didn't know how she wasn't dying in this heat with _that_ getup on.

She walked with a sway and grace that he had never seen before. It was unnatural, and yet fundamentally natural all at the same time. Like this is what people moved like before; When they were wild, and primal. He was confused as to why he, and especially Shane, hadn't gotten angry with her with all the yelling, and ordering around. There was some instinct, like the one that told you a Walker was nearby, that made him not want to see her mad. He felt more secure somehow, with her walking with them. Maybe he _had_ lost it.

"So, Livvie," said Shane, as they walked through the forest, with a cautiously flirtatious look. "How are you supposed to get to your weapons if a Walker shows up, huh? You got them all covered up."

Livvie raised her right eyebrow patronizingly, "I have plenty of weapons that I can reach easily like this. And if I feel a hoard of Walkers is nearby then I'll adjust my wardrobe choices. One or two popping out at me, and I'm safer like this. I like to have as many layers as possible between me and them, and I'm not going to change that just because you can't gawk at my ass anymore." She said. "I'm happy to discuss any tips you may have on Walker survival though."

"It's always the brain!" added Carl helpfully. "You have to get the brain!"

"Why thank you little man!" said Livvie. "I'll keep that in mind."

"How exactly would you adjust your wardrobe to combat a hoard?" asked Rick curiously. He was confused. He wasn't exactly a 'Fashion Platter' or whatever they called it, and he was as lost as a bumble bee in an ant farm.

Livvie looked over at him with amusement. "Well, to start I'd drop my bag, and pull out a few supplies. Then I'd shed my coat, and put on a less bulky leather top over my shirt. I'd put on my protection: Splash guard over my face, some long fitted leather gloves, I think they're called 'Ladies Rose Gloves,' or something like that." She shook her head. "Anyway, then I'd take out my Katana, that's my sword, and cut the Fuckers down like a scythe to wheat." She said this cheerfully, as if she was looking forward to just such an occasion.

The boys had stopped moving. "Rick," whispered Shane. "She really _is_ insane. Are you sure we should be bringing her back to the group." Livvie heard this, and said nothing. She wanted to see what Rick would say.

Rick whispered back to Shane, still unaware that Livvie could hear them. "She seems crazy like _Daryl_ to me, and you know how valuable he is to the survival of the group." He said. Livvie decided she wanted to meet this 'Daryl.'

Livvie was still a few steps ahead, and she looked over her shoulder at them. "I'd prefer to have a flame thrower of course, but in days like these beggars can't be choosers," she said conversationally. She shrugged, and turned back around to keep walking. The boys all looked at each other with trepidation.

"I like her!" Carl whispered to them, and then took off after her.

"Me too," said Rick looked surprised at himself.

"Fine, whatever!" said Shane. "Lets get a move on we're losin' light."

"Would you even have time to change if a herd of Walkers found you?" asked Carl.

"No, not really, but hopefully I notice them long enough before they notice me, so I can get ready for blood and guts,"said Livvie. This was the first time she had heard a group of Walkers being classed as a 'Herd.' She guessed it fit though, from her observations. "I just like messing with Shane," she explained. "I do like putting on my splash guard and gloves when I have enough warning though. You never know what you could catch from a corspe, let alone a walking one," she said.

They continued their trek through the woods, Carl and Livvie talking softly.

About 20 minutes later Livvie came to an abrupt stop, and crouched low to the ground. She had her fist raised by her right shoulder, in a SpecOps 'hold up' gesture. The boys crouched to the ground behind her.

"What is it?" asked Shane. "You see a Walker? Or maybe some Teletubbies are romping through the woods, and you want to run to meet them?"

"I feel like something is off," Livvie sad quietly, ignoring Shane. She drew the Sai from the sheath on her right lower leg.

"You _feel_ like something is _off_," mocked Shane.

"Danger,' she replied softly. "Not Walkers."

Shane scoffed and stood up. Rick and Carl joined him. "We gotta get movin' Rick," Shane said. They continued forward, and Livvie caught up with them. She still felt uneasy, but she didn't want to be left behind. These were the first living people she'd seen in a while, and she was overjoyed with the thought of seeing a real live woman again. Not that seeing the guys wasn't great, but she missed talking to members of her own gender. She kept her weapon out, and her guard up, but she followed them.

They stopped suddenly, and Rick motioned for silence. Livvie looked around him, and saw a Buck. A large one. She had visions of steak, and fresh tanned leather to make more clothes with. Not that she knew how to tan a deer hide, or any thing. But, oh, it was _so on_.

While the men watched in wonder, and Carl crept toward the beast, Livvie snuck out to the right flank and crept closer to her prey. But something was wrong here. She didn't know what it was. She sheathed her Sai, and inched her hand towards her gun. What was it? Why was her Slaydar buzzing agitatedly? It didn't feel like a Demon or a Walker. What was wrong?

She would blame herself for the rest of her life for what happened next. She should have seen it coming. She should have stopped it. As it was she couldn't even get to Carl before the bullet struck him.

A/N: In case anyone is interested in what Livvie looks like: I see her as Phoebe Tonkin (Faye in the CW TV show 'The Secret Circle') but with longer fuller hair, hazel eyes, and more curves. Olivia is not anything like Faye though! Here's a link for a picture of Phoebe Tonkin on the CW. com: .com/shows/the-secret-circle/photos/0062526059e and/or .com/shows/the-secret-circle/photos/006340207b2

Disclaimer: I do not own The walking Dead or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I am making no money off of this story. I do not mean anything religious with this story. I am using a fictional interpretation of 'God' etc, as is done in Buffy. I do not mean any offense to anyone. I do not own the Teletubbies, thank goodness! I do not own, or represent Phoebe Tonkin, the CW, or The Secret Circle!


	3. Chapter 3:Meet and Greet and Epic Babble

Time line: Post Chosen for Buffy, and near the end of the first episode of Season 2 for The walking Dead.

A/N: My character in this story is a Slayer from the Buffy verse, thrown into the Walking Dead verse. There will be no other Buffy characters, except in flashbacks. I'm taking some artistic license as far as the order of events in this episode. Not too much, but a little. This chapter is pretty long, and full of dialog. I promise there will be Zombie Thrashing Action!tm in the future. There are some details about certain guns, but I'm explaining once, and never again. Shane is still wearing last season's pants because they were so bad they have to be ragged on by my uppity Slayer!

Rating: M- there will be violence, language, death, and mayhap a little romance later ;)

Livvie ran. She hadn't run like this since she was in Sunnydale before the Final Battle. It took a real desperate need to make a person run as hard as they could, and she was desperate to help Carl. He was such a sweet boy, and he had been so nice to her. She didn't want Rick and his wife to have to go through the pain of losing a child. She wished no one would have to go through such pain, but it was a daily occurrence in this new world.

She had made it to Carl just as he hit the ground. Rick was right behind her, and Shane took up a position to cover them. Livvie had ripped off her bag, and frantically searched for bandages. She had a bed sheet she had torn to pieces, and she took out the biggest piece in the bundle to make a compress. Rick was frantic beside her as he secured a belt around his son to hold the bandage in place.

A man came running towards them, bewildered at the sudden tragic turn of events. "I didn't see him," the man cried. "I've been tracking that Buck for miles, and I had no idea the boy was behind it!"

Rick looked ready to rip the man's heart out with his bare hands. He couldn't speak, but the snarling noise he made was enough to get the man to step back.

"Look," said the man. "I know someone you can take him to. They're in a farmhouse not too far from here! Tell them Otis sent you, and they'll help your boy! It's that way," he cried gesturing off toward his right.

Livvie nodded and stood up. She took off her coat, and draped it over her bag, before she gave them to Otis. "Carry these," she said briskly. "You have any better directions then just 'that way,'" she asked.

"It's just straight in that direction!" said Otis. "You'll hit some fields, and then a fence, and the house is right there! Can't miss it! Ask for Hershel! Tell 'im Otis sent ya'! I'll be right behind ya!"

Rick had Carl in his arms, and was preparing to take off. Livvie stopped him, and tried to take Carl. "No," seethed Rick. "Get out of my way! He's my son! I'll take care of him!"

"I can run faster and farther than you, Rick." Said Livvie. "I'll get him there much faster than you, with a much smoother ride." She looked into his eyes, and pleaded with him. "Trust me."

"Nah! You're insane! Run Rick! Hurry!" yelled Shane.

Rick looked into Livvie's eyes, and saw the complete conviction there. The absolute belief that she would get Carl to help faster. In his gut he believed her, and even though it had been wrong in the past, he had a feeling that this was what he needed to do. It had been less than two minutes since Carl was shot, and Rick handed his world over to Livvie. The look in his eyes told her what it was costing him to do this, and she was determined not to let him down.

Livvie took the child gently, yet swiftly. She secured him to her chest with both arms, took a breath, and started swiftly walking. Her speed picked up as her body adjusted to the extra cumbersome weight. Seconds later she was just a blur disappearing off into the woods.

Rick took off after her as fast as he could, but he couldn't even see her anymore. That she could move that fast was astounding, but right now he was only grateful. He heard Shane and Otis huffing behind him as they hurried after Livvie and his son.

Livvie ran smoothly, jumping over logs, roots, and rocks without jostling her precious cargo. Her breath was coming in fast gasps as she pushed her body to the limit. Finally the house came into view. She saw a woman on the porch with binoculars watching her and Carl's approach. As she was coming up on the fence the woman turned back to the house for a moment, and instead of wasting time Livvie leapt over it in one stride.

A white haired man rushed down the stairs from the porch. "Is he bit?" he cried out.

"Hershel, I need Hershel!" cried Livvie.

"Is he bit?" The man roared back at her.

"No! He's shot! Otis sent us here ahead of him! Please help him!" she pleaded.

"Otis?" asked Hershel.

"It was an accident! Your man shot him! Just please help him!" said Livvie.

"Alright then," said Hershel. "Bring him into the house."

Livvie rushed after Hershel. What happened next was a big blur. Hershel barked out orders, people ran hurriedly hither and yon, and then Rick, Shane, and Otis crashed through the door. It took them at least ten minutes from the time Livvie had arrived with Carl to get there. Livvie pointed towards the room she had taken Carl into, and Rick rushed past her. Otis was beside himself. Everything was chaos.

Livvie didn't know what to do here. The extent of her medical knowledge consisted of patching up herself, and/or fellow Slayers after a fight. With Slayer healing she knew the procedures were different for them than with normal people. There wasn't anything for her to fight here. There was nothing she could do.

Livvie went to get some water. When she had drunk her fill she got some for Rick. She had heard the Doctor say he would need to donate blood, and it could only hurt if Rick was dehydrated. With the heat, and the running she knew he could use some water. She had to force him to drink it. He only did after she convinced him he could give more blood if he kept hydrated.

She planned to get on his ass as soon as he started giving blood with as much food and liquids she could rustle up. Carl needed a lot of blood, and Rick needed to do everything he could to get his body to make more red blood cells fast as soon as he started donating.

"I'm going to wait outside. I'm no good at patching people up." She paused thoughtfully. "Now, violence? Violence is my thing. You need me to take down some Walkers, and watch your back? I'm your girl. But, I'll just be, you know, outside." She finished, as she walked out of the room.

Livvie finally noticed the blood covering her. Her shirts were soaked through. She noticed her bag, and coat near the door, and asked someone where she could clean up. There was an old water pump outside, and she shed her shirts to wash the blood off her body. She kept her bra on since, miraculously, it hadn't gotten any blood on it, and for the sake of modesty. When she was finished, she used her towel to dry off, and put on another top. She spent the next few minutes rinsing out her bloody clothes. She wrung them out and hung them on some tree branches nearby to dry.

By the time she got back inside, Rick was already giving blood. She went to the kitchen to try and find some food for him. Turn's out Patricia, Otis' girlfriend, was on it though.

"Need any help?" Livvie asked.

"No, I've got it," said the woman. "I heard how vehement you were about Rick gettin' fuel to help him make more blood. You're right, and as this is our fault I'll see to Rick."

"Thank you," said Livvie.

The next thing Livvie heard was Carl screaming bloody murder. She couldn't take it. She rushed out of the house and stood in the front yard trying to gain her bearings. She felt the overwhelming need to kill something. What in the nine hells was she even doing here? She helped get the boy to help, now she should leave. There was nothing else she could do for him.

But her feet just wouldn't move. She heard a nicker in the distance, and turned toward it. There was a stable. She could smell, and hear the horses now. She called to Maggie that she would be in the stable, and got a "Yup," shouted back to her. She slowly moved toward them as if she was being pulled. Over the next twenty minutes or so she petted and talked to the horses. There were four, and before long her talking had degenerated into cooing, and her urge to kill was subsiding.

"Yes," she simpered. "You're such a pretty girl, aren't you? Aren't you? Who's a pretty horsey?"

"Nicker, Snort" said the horse.

"Yes," she continued adoringly. "Yes, you are."

Suddenly she heard an engine start, and tires moving away from the house. Livvie rushed out to see what was going on. An old blue truck was speeding down the dirt road. She squinted, and could she Otis, and Shane in the truck. Where were they going? To get 'Lori'?

"Where are they going?" she shouted as she reached Patricia, Hershel, and Rick.

"To the High School, to get some medical supplies." Said Rick.

Livvie growled as she ran after the truck as fast as she could. "Wait!" she screamed. "Don't leave me here! You need me!" She stopped when she realized she wouldn't catch them. She turned and stormed back to the house.

"Rick Grimes!" she shouted. "You stupid, arogant, ignorant, selfish man! What did I just say about Walkers? Huh? You need Walkers put down? That's me! That's what I do!" she pointed to herself with short jabs at her chest. "You sent those boys out there to get through hundreds of Walker's by themselves? That's what I do! I could have helped them! Hell, I've been sneaking in and out of places overrun with Walkers since this started, and I've not a scratch to show for it! Are you and Shane so Misogynistic you didn't even think to ask for my help? Did you think I was lying about the violence thing? That I just have all these weapons strapped to me for show? What is wrong with you?" she clenched her fists to keep from shoving the asshat.

Rick held his hands up in surrender. "You're just a young girl. You would have been in the way, and gotten them hurt because they were lookin' out for you." He said softly.

Livvie let out a furious yell, and started storming across the yard toward the forest.

"Livvie!" Rick yelled after her. "Get back here! It's not safe out there on your own!"

Livvie spun on her heel, and stomped back to the arrogant prick. "I've been 'on my own' ever since this started!" she stated in a low growl. "I've been fighting in a war against creatures that would make you piss you pants, and run screaming for your mommy. Every! Damn! Day! Since I was thirteen! In that whole time I got six months leave! Six months of peace, in three and a half years of _war_! And then the Walkers came! I've been fighting them; fighting to save people since this started! Every day! Alone! Don't you fucking _DARE_ tell me I'm not safe on my own. That I would be a _burden_ to Shane and Otis! I've seen more action, than everyone here combined! If anyone should have gone to get medical supplies it should have been _me_!" Livvie panted and tried to calm down. The people in front of her, Rick, Hershel, and Patricia, were staring at her with fear plain on their faces. She tried to reel in her Slayer self, she could feel it peeking out through her eyes. Maggie had come out of the house, and stood frozen on the porch staring at Livvie.

"I'm outta here! Maybe I'll run into the others in your group. Hopefully they are less insultingly patriarchal." Livvie turned to start towards the forest again. She paused after only a couple of steps, and said ever her shoulder. "Don't take this as a sign Rick. What happened to Carl has nothing to do with God." She started forward again.

She was about halfway to the trees when Maggie rode up beside her. "Need a ride?" she asked.

"Yes, please," said Livvie. Maggie leaned down and took her hand, and on three, helped Livvie swing up to mount the horse behind her.

"Hold on!" said Maggie. Then they took off. Livvie was surprised at the speed, but quickly adjusted to the rhythm of the running horse. They saw a couple walkers on the way, and Maggie reached for her bat.

Livvie stopped her, and yelled into her ear, "I've got it!" She pulled her SIG SAUER® P226® Tactical Operations 9mm semi automatic pistol, with a twenty round magazine (hollow point), and suppressor attached, and popped off two shots putting down both Walkers as they flew past.

Maggie looked at Livvie briefly over her shoulder, both eyebrows disappearing into her hairline.

"What? I told you guys: This is what I do!" defended Livvie. They rode. For how long Livvie didn't know, but she was loving the feeling of freedom riding gave her.

Then she suddenly heard screaming in the distance. It sounded like a woman, or maybe an effeminate man. Hey, you never knew! Some men she had heard screaming in the past couple of months sounded like little girls. There was nothing like the prospect of being eaten alive to make a man shed his cherished masculinity.

Maggie suddenly started riding with a purpose, and Livvie realized she was just now hearing the screaming. This time Livvie let Maggie pull her bat, and take aim at the Walker. The Walker had a woman by her legs, as she tried desperately to kick at it to free herself. Maggie lined up the shot, and BAM! It was good! The Walker tumbled to the ground, and Livvie gave Maggie an encouraging pat on the back, and then hopped off of the horse to go check on the woman. Maggie singled out Lori, and off they flew. Lori didn't look nearly as good on a horse as Maggie did. She'd be sore beyond belief when she got off of it, if she rode the whole way bouncing around like that.

Livvie helped the woman to her feet.

"Who the hell are you?" asked a filthy man. A filthy built man. With a crossbow. Livvie bit her lip. The percentage of men she knew that she considered 'Fuckable' had just gone from 0% to: Thank You Goddess!

"Guhhh!" moaned the Walker.

"Shut up!" said the Redneck as her fired his crossbow. One handed. Without really looking. And hit it square in the head. The Walker slumped to the ground unmoving. Livvie bit her lip till she tasted blood. She sucked her lower lip into her mouth, and soothed it with her tongue until it stopped bleeding.

"I asked you a question!" yelled the man.

Livvie pulled herself together, and cleared her throat. "Yeah, uh, hi!" she said awkwardly. "I'm Olivia McKinley. I met Rick, Carl, and Shane about an hour before Carl was hurt. They were bringing me back here to apologize for ruining my Walker trap. I was going to help look for Sophia, your missing person? Have you guys found her?" she asked.

"Not yet," barked the Redneck.

"Walker trap?" asked a young Asian man.

"The church bells," said Livvie. "I hauled a generator, and fuel out there, to the middle of nowhere, to set that trap and then you guys just waltzed in and wrecked 12 hours of hard work."

Everyone looked over at the Asian. "Hey," he said defensively. "How was I supposed to know? I just wanted it to stop so Walkers wouldn't follow the sound to us!"

Livvie raised one eyebrow at him. "What?" he said. She raised the other. "Oh, right! That _was_ the trap!" he looked down to the ground.

"Are you all right, honey?" an older woman with shorn grey hair said to the blond who had been attacked.

"I'll be fine, Carol." She said shakily. "I really could have used my gun just then, that's all."

Carol nodded, then turned to Livvie. "I'm Carol," she began. "This is Glenn," she gestured to the Asian man. "Andrea," to the blond. "And Daryl." The dirty, _dirty_, man.

"Nice to meet you," Livvie said. "Please, call me Livvie."

Livvie rustled in her bag for a moment, and then pulled a small black and pink gun out, and handed it to Andrea. "Here," she said. "Until you can get your gun back. No one should be out here unarmed." Andrea inspected the weapon, noticing it was engraved with little vines and white flowers, and looked back at Livvie curiously.

"It's a SIG Sauer Mosquito, with .22 LR subsonic bullets. It's not as loud as regular gun, and sure as hell quieter than Rick's revolver, or Shane's big gauge. The safety's on and you've got ten rounds, including the one in the chamber. I've also got a suppressor for it, but we'll deal with that later." Explained Livvie.

Andrea raised her eyebrows at Livvie, and she cleared her throat sheepishly. "I found it in the passengers seat of a posh convertible. Apparently it belonged to a mob princess, and her daddy got it engraved for her. If you think that's something, wait till you see the silencer! I've never been able to bring myself to use it, it's way to girly for me, so it's yours if you want it!"

"Thank you," said Andrea bitterly. "At least someone cares if I get eaten by Walkers. But, isn't a .22 a really small bullet? Is it big enough to put down a Walker?"

"Au, contraire Madame! A .22 is a magic bullet!" Livvie walked over to Glenn, and motioned to his hat. "May I?" she asked.

Glenn shrugged and handed it over. "Sure," he said.

"Now," said Livvie. "I learned this from some crime show, but I'm pretty sure it's accurate." She turned the hat over and gestured to the inside. "Imagine this is a human skull. When a .22 is fired into the skull, and I suggest," she looked at Andrea. "that you aim for the eyes, just below the bridge of the nose, or the temples." Livvie looked back at the others. "The momentum is slowed down so the bullet doesn't have enough force to punch through the other side of the skull." She pointed to an imaginary 'entry' point, and across to the other side of the hat. "But it still has enough force to keep moving. Seeing as how it is cadged in a convex environment, it ricochets," she made her finger bounce in an angle from the impact point on the 'skull,' and move across to ricochet again at a different angle. "And as long as it has momentum, it keeps ricocheting, over and over, " her finger moved in crazy patterns showing the path of the imaginary bullet. "Thus chopping up the brain, quite sufficiently, and causing more than enough damage to kill a Walker!" she smiled up at everyone happily. "See? Magic bullet!" she exclaimed.

The people around her seemed sufficiently impressed, as Livvie handed Glenn back his hat.

"Alright then," said Andrea. She then turned and walked off, after tucking the gun in the back of her pants.

"This way," said Carol. "We're on our way back to the rest of our group."

They all trooped off with Dirty Man, or well Daryl, taking up the rear. There was some commotion at first, with Andrea storming off to the RV, and the old man wondering what was going on. Livvie learned his name was Dale, and that 'T-Dog' was sick.

She explained that Carl getting shot was a hunting accident, and that she didn't know if Carl would make it or not. "And it was driving me crazy," she told them. "I couldn't do anything there, and the men decided I shouldn't go help get medical supplies by not telling me they were leaving until after they were already gone, and I just needed to get out of there."

There was a discussion on who was going to the farm, and what to do about finding Sophia. Everyone but Glenn was going to stay, continue looking, and make a sign in case she made it back on her own.

"Why do I always have to go," complained Glenn.

"There's no choice," exclaimed Dale. "Someone has to take T-Dog to the farm. His arm has gotten really bad, and he has a serious blood infection. We have to get him some antibiotics or he's dead! No joke," he finished.

Dirty Daryl headed off to a motorcycle, and dug out a bag of medication. This was 'Merle's Stash,' apparently. As Daryl was walking away after a sarcastic Chlamydia comment, *shudder*, Livvie decided to put her two cents in. "I don't suppose you have any weed in there?" she asked.

"Merle wasn't the weed type," scoffed Daryl.

"What do you want weed for?" asked Glenn.

Livvie looked at him from where she had settled against the windshield of a car. "Frankie says relax," she pontificated. Everyone around her either looked clueless, or confused as to what Frankie Goes to Hollywood had to do with anything. "I need to relax! I'm seriously jumpy after working all that time on a trap, and then not getting to kill any Walkers. Except the two I shot on the way out here, but I haven't had a good brawl in far too long." she sighed and let her head fall back to the windshield with a thump. "I need a good kill, in the worst way."

Everyone was confused still, but they shook it off with a concerned look, and started to help Glenn get ready to leave with T-Dog.

"How old are you anyway?" asked Carol. "What's your story?"

"Heh," Livvie said amused, as she jumped off of the car to face everyone. "Why does everyone ask me how old I am? It doesn't really matter anymore does it? How old I am doesn't matter, as much as what I can do. And I can help you guys. Kicking ass, taking names, and saving people is what I do. I've been training for it since I was four years old! Hell, I spent three months in Israel when I was twelve learning from The Mossad! Does it matter how old I am when my being here ups your chances of survival significantly? I'm old enough to kill Walkers, that's all that should matter!"

"Whoa, touchy subject," mumbled Andrea.

"Yeah, well I'm sick of people looking at me like I'm a stupid child! Anyone who can survive this shit storm on their own, like I've been doing, deserves some respect and consideration! I'm smart enough to fight, to set up a Walker trap in a church, including wiring the whole building with C4, and I didn't blow myself up! My opinion should matter! Age can't be measured in years anymore! Only in experiences! And I've experienced enough in my lifetime to deserve being treated as an equal here!" Livvie raged.

"The boys got to you didn't they?" asked Andrea. Livvie looked at her questioningly. "Rick, and Shane. The only guy in our camp who doesn't treat us like idiotic liabilities, ironically enough, is Daryl."

Livvie rubbed her face roughly, then placed her hands on her hips. "Shane went to get some medical supplies at the local High School, with the man that shot Carl. I saw it a couple days ago, and it's swarming with Walkers. I coulda gotten in there easier than them, maybe come up with a plan. I've been told that I'm a tactical genius." She huffed a short sarcastic laugh. "I told them I couldn't help with medical stuff, but if they needed help with Walkers to tell me. I went outside for some fresh air, and ended up hanging out with the horses in the barn. Next thing I know I hear a truck taking off. Rick told me I was just a young girl, that would get them killed if I went along! They didn't even tell me anything! It's the 'Good Old Boys,' club post apocalypse! It's ridiculous!"

"Tell me about it," said Andrea as she looked at Dale.

"Oh, right," said Livvie. "Here," she dug into her bag and pulled out a small wooden box, and handed it to Andrea. "There's an instruction manual in the lid, cleaning stuff, and bullets in the bottom. You'll see the suppressor right on top there when you open it."

"What?" asked Dale. "What's going on? Are you giving her a gun? No!"

"No?" asked Livvie. "You want Andrea to die that badly, huh? She was almost just Walkers food, and you think she shouldn't have a gun?"

"No, of course not!" exclaimed Dale. "The reason I don't want her to have a gun, is because I'm afraid she'll shoot herself!"

Both of Livvie's eyebrow went up. Carol gave her a quick run down of the 'CDC Incident,' and what had happened to Andrea's gun.

"I still don't see why she shouldn't have a gun," said Livvie. "There is a huge difference between giving up, and letting yourself die, and shooting yourself." She looked hard at Dale. "Think about it! If she had stayed in the CDC, she would have just had to sit there, and it would have been over. To shoot herself she would need to think about it a lot more, and then make herself _actively_ do it. From what I saw in the woods just now, Andrea is _actively_ fighting to stay alive! And keeping her weapon from her is tantamount to homicide in this situation! You don't know everything Old Man, and you have no right to keep her property from her!" she said. "Just cause we're women it doesn't make us stupid, and we have a right to defend ourselves, just like everyone else."

Livvie turned to Andrea. "You keep that, even if you do get your gun back. It's almost silent with the suppressor, so you don't have to worry about attracting more Walkers when your trying to defend yourself."

Andrea nodded, "Thank you, Livvie."

Livvie looked back at the whole group. "You all have to start thinking differently," she asserted. "An unarmed person, a person who doesn't know how to defend themselves, is a liability to the rest of you. It doesn't matter what gender you are, or how old you are, you have to learn to protect yourself and others. You have to learn how to handle yourself in dangerous situations. Not just against Walkers. There are people out there who prey on the weak, and they'd smell this group's vulnerability from a mile away. They won't care that you are trying to protect your women and children by denying them life saving weapons and training, they'll just swoop in here, take everything you have, rape your precious women and children _in front of you_, and walk away _laughing_ about how _easy_ it was!" she shouted.

"Now wait just a minute!" called Dale. "We've been doing just fine so far! Who are you to come in here and criticize us like this!"

"Really? You've been doing 'just fine?'" Livvie said. "How many were in your group to start with, huh? How many have you lost to the Walkers? More than half, from what I've heard! And as for 'who I am,' I am a reality check! I am here to kick you all in your asses, and get you in shape to survive! You've been bumbling around, without a clue in the world for too long now! You are still here because of pure dumb luck! That's it! And Daryl, from what I've heard! If everyone of your people can't defend themselves and the group they are useless to you! They are already dead! They're just waiting for a Walker to attack them when the big brave men aren't there, and then that's it! Game Over!

"The world has changed, and if you all can't adapt to that change, then it's only a matter of time until death catches up with you. I can teach you guys how to survive if you want me to. There is no room in this world for those who can't fight to live. Everything else you are, everything else you have to offer doesn't mean a thing if you huddle on the ground crying during an attack while the rest of the group has to split their attention between protecting you and themselves. Watching each others' backs in a fight is one thing, but working to protect those who sit around fretting in a crisis is useless, and dangerous, for everyone." Livvie finished her tirade, breathing heavily. It was her emotions that were stealing her breath. She had seen so many good people die, when they didn't have to! Just a little bit of effort, and they could have saved themselves!

"I would be willing to learn how to protect my daughter, of course, but I don't want her fighting Walkers! She's only twelve!" said Carol.

"Would you rather have Sophia learn how to fight Walkers, or end up being eaten alive by Walkers because she didn't know what to do, and you couldn't reach her in time? I can appreciate that you want to keep her innocent, and let her be a child for as long as possible, but she already lost her innocence when the world ended. Helping her learn to defend herself can only help her to feel more safe, and help you feel more secure during the next crisis. Don't fool yourself thinking that there won't be another crisis either! That's all that is left now; Challenge after challenge; Crisis after crisis. This is our lives, and trying to pretend other wise, lying to yourself and your child, is only going to make you both easier to kill." Livvie said. "Women can't afford to be weak, and let the men handle the 'heavy lifting' anymore. We all have to start from a place of competence, and then develop skills in different areas to become functioning tribes now."

"_Tribe_," scoffed Daryl. "We ain't no _Tribe_, lady!"

"Well, what else would you call it?" asked Livvie. "Not a village. Village infers that you have a stationary, functioning home. Not a family. There's too much division to call you that. A Tribe is a social group, made up of numerous families, or generations or a group of persons having a common character, or interest, like survival for instance, whole in and of itself regardless of location. So yeah, I'd class this group as a tribe."

Glenn and T-Dog had driven off during the argument.

Livvie sighed deeply. "Look, I didn't mean to go off on you guys like that. I'm just really wound up, and I'm sick of seeing good people die because they couldn't let go of the ways of Before." She said. "I'm going to look for a ride now. I need to find something and fix it up, so I can go get my things." No one said anything as Livvie walked away.

"She's it, you know," said Andrea, after several moments of silence. "She's our chance. What we've been praying, and begging for. That girl can help us survive this, if we let her."

Silence surrounded them, only broken up by the peaceful chirping of crickets, as they thought about Livvie, and what she could mean for them.

A/N: In case anyone is interested in what Livvie looks like: I see her as Phoebe Tonkin (Faye in the CW TV show 'The Secret Circle') but with longer fuller hair, hazel eyes, and more curves. Olivia is not anything like Faye though! Here's a link for a picture of Phoebe Tonkin on the CW. com: http:/ www. Cwtv .com /shows /the-secret-circle/photos /0062526059e and/or

http:/ www. Cwtv . Com/ show s/the-secret-circle/ photos /006340207b2 (Remove the spaces)

Disclaimer: I do not own The walking Dead or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I am making no money off of this story. I do not mean anything religious with this chapter. I am using a fictional interpretation of 'God' etc, as is done in Buffy. I do not mean any offense to anyone. I do not own the Teletubbies, thank goodness! I do not own, or represent Phoebe Tonkin, the CW, or The Secret Circle! I do not own Frankie Goes to Hollywood, or the song Relax. Definition of 'Tribe,' extrapolated from Merriam-Webster digital edition (c)2000, which I do not own. I do not own or have any affiliation with the manufacturers, sellers, etc of the SIG SAUER® P226® Tactical Operations, .22LR Subsonic rounds of any variety, or the SIG Sauer Mosquito. All I know I learned from Wikipedia, which I also do not own, and http:/ sigsauer. Com /CatalogProductDetails/ (Remove the spaces.)which I, Guess what? DO NOT OWN. This is depressing! I don't know if the afore mentioned guns are suppressor compatible, but we're going to pretend that they are! Yay! I think that's everything!


	4. Chapter 4: It's a Massacreee!

Time line: Post Chosen for Buffy, and during Season 2 for The Walking Dead. There will be spoilers for Season 2 of The Walking Dead, including _all_ episodes that air before the date that I post each chapter.

A/N: My character in this story is a Slayer from the Buffy verse, thrown into the Walking Dead verse. There will be no other Buffy characters, except in flashbacks. I'm taking some artistic license as far as the order of events in this episode. Not too much, but a little. Shane is still wearing last season's pants because they were so bad they have to be ragged on by my uppity Slayer!

Rating: M- there will be violence, language, death, and mayhap a little romance later ;) This chapter has some pretty severe language, and violence.

Chapter 4: It's a Massacreee!

Or

Chapter 4: In Which Livvie Starts to Hate Shane Even _More_!

Silence surrounded them, only broken up by the peaceful chirping of crickets, as they thought about Livvie, and what she could mean for them.

"Huh," grunted Dixon. "Bitch thinks a lot of herself don't she?"

"I'd be pissed too if someone messed up my hard days work. And did she say she had wired the church with C4? Does that mean what I think it means?" asked Andrea.

"If that's true we are extremely lucky that we didn't accidentally set if off while we were in there," said Dale.

"C4 is explosives right? Where in the world did she get it in the first place? And what if Sophia ends up hiding in that church?" Carol asked anxiously.

"C4 is pretty stable stuff. Tha's why it's used so much," said Daryl. "I've seen it used on a couple a construction jobs that I worked. You have to stick a detonator in it, and set it on a timer, or a remote trigger. Since the church didn't blow with us in it, I'm guessin' she has a remote trigger."

"She said she had a generator and fuel right?" asked Dale. "We could sure use that fuel."

"I don' know if we should trust her, man," said Daryl. "She seems a mite unstable."

Everyone who wasn't Daryl scoffed loudly, and tried to hide their laughter. "_You_ are calling someone _else_ unstable?" demanded Andrea with a chuckle. "I just think maybe she's been too long without interacting with the living. It can be easy to forget your manners when surrounded by Walkers 24/7. She's jumpy. Who can blame her? Death can pop up anywhere anytime, and the way she had planned on taking out her frustrations was foiled."

"Yer just saying that 'cause she gave you a pretty gun. You have to like 'er," said Daryl.

Andrea glared at Daryl, "Yeah, well, I might be more inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt here, but that doesn't mean I like her. We all have to be careful. Like she said there is more to worry about than just Walkers, and we can't just trust people. They have to earn it."

"I'm going to see if Livvie needs help finding a 'ride,'" decided Dale. "Maybe after she gets her things we can see if she'll go after Shane and the bastard that shot Carl. That way she can kill some Walkers, and maybe it'll calm her down."

None of them knew, of course, that Livvie had been close enough to hear the beginning of their conversation.

Ever since the outbreak, she was used to thinking of herself as better, and smarter than everyone else. She rarely encountered living people, most of the time she was surrounded by Walkers, so of course she was better and smarter than them. They were dead, and had the brain capacity of a concussed pigeon.

When she encountered people, she usually lent a hand if they were good people, or mostly ignored them if they weren't. She only bothered to deal with bad people if they were preying on women and children, and that was very rare considering she didn't often encounter people.

When she did run into people, she would give them a couple of tips, maybe help them get some supplies, try to set them on the path of survival, and then leave them. She rarely spent more than 48 hours with them, and then left to continue her one woman crusade against the Walkers.

Livvie didn't get attached. She couldn't. She wouldn't be able to stand making friends, and then watching them die. Not again. Everyone she had known in this world was dead. Her boss, her neighbors, hell even the checker at the market who always flirted with her. She couldn't afford to form attachments. She would just have to leave anyway, so being polite and decent to people had just fallen out of practice for her. I was easier to bust in, make her points quickly and firmly, and exit stage left.

Livvie had a feeling that she needed to stay with these people. She didn't know what made these people different from the others she had met, but she trusted her instincts. Most Slayers had a specialty. Some had better senses than other Slayers; Hearing, sight, smell. Some had prophetic dreams. Some had extra strength or agility. Some had highly developed instincts. Every Slayer was unique.

What made her different from the others, was her 'Slayer-sense.' She could sense evil from miles away. She could even narrow down what sort of evil: Vampire, Demon, Warlock. Magnitude of evil; Upper or lower level demon, Master Vampire or Fledgling. Since landing in this dimension her sense had developed into being able to tell the character of a person. She could sort of 'feel' and 'see' a person's aura, and tell what kind of a person they were. If they were innocent, or evil. Honest, or liars. Murderers, rapists, and abusers had a distinct feel about them. Like a dark spot on their aura for every sin committed. The intent behind the sin could also clearly be seen in the depth of the darkness marking their soul.

After the outbreak she could tell if a person was infected. She could tell if there were Walkers near, and usually estimate how many before she saw or heard them.

So far Livvie had made these observations on the group she was currently with:

-Rick- Good guy. He had a clear soul, and loved his family dearly. The responsibility of leadership was weighing on him heavily. He had a clear definition of what was right and wrong, and was always trying to do the right thing.

-Carl- Cute innocent kid. The apocalypse had taken it's toll, as it had on everyone, but he could still appreciate beauty. He worshiped his dad, and thought he could do no wrong.

-Shane- He certainly wasn't as dark as some she had seen, but he was no innocent. He cared for his friend, Rick, and hated him at the same time. He was selfish. He had hurt someone recently. Not as bad as he could have, but he was still ashamed. He was detached, and trying to separate himself from the group.

-Lori-She was a good person, but also selfish. Livvie had only been in her presence for a moment, so she didn't have too much to go on. Lori had been in severe pain when she had heard her son was hurt. She also had a layer of guilt surrounding her. About what Livvie didn't know yet.

-Andrea- She was in pain. She had lost someone recently, and wasn't sure it was worth it to move on, and keep fighting. She was pissed at Dale for being so controlling, when she didn't think he had a right to be where she was concerned. Her soul was white, and pure, but recent pain and hardship had bruised it. She didn't have an evil bone in her body.

-Carol- She was devastated over the loss of her child, and would do anything to get her back. She felt guilty, like it was her fault that her daughter was missing. Her identity was so mixed up with her daughter's, that if the worst were to happen, Livvie thought Carol would surely kill herself. She was also fundamentally weak. If she was to survive she would have to make herself strong.

-Glenn- Genuinely good guy. He tried his best to be good, and helpful. He had an abundance of compassion.

-Dale- Had the scars of loss on his soul. He was a essentially good person, but seemed a bit manipulative.

-T-Dog- Livvie had only vaguely met him, and didn't talk to him at all, as he was so sick. He seemed like a good honorable man. He had issues, as did everyone in a post-apocalyptic world, but he seemed trustworthy.

And last but not least:

-Daryl-His soul was more light than dark. He was wounded deeply early on and it affected the rest of his life. He didn't like to hurt people, but would do anything for his family. He was a racist, but Livvie got a feeling that he just didn't know any better. He had a chance now to interact with different people, and make judgments for himself. He was a hunter, and more in tune with the earth than anyone else she had met in this dimension. He was a decent guy. Not true blue like Rick. He was surely rough around the edges, and his temper had a _very_ short fuse. But he did his part to help his tribe, and seemed to be the only one who still thought that they'd find Sophia safe. Livvie was also sure that he would never hurt a woman or a child.

Out of everyone she would rather have Daryl at her back. He seemed the most capable. On the trustworthy scale of men Rick would come next, then Glenn, then T-Dog, then Dale, and then eventually Shane. She had the feeling he was the type of man to leave you to die if it meant he got one more second to live. That might be a good strategy in the short run, but to survive he would need a group of people with him that he could trust. If he killed them, or disillusioned them all, he would be alone. As for the women Andrea seemed the most capable here. She may have been having a hard time, but she was fighting still. Carol had crumpled into a useless pile of tears, begging, and prayer to a god that couldn't hear her anymore. Livvie wished she would stop whining, and DO something about it.

Livvie was no wilting flower. She didn't submit to anyone, but she was going to have to learn to cooperate again, instead of assuming that she knew best. If she was going to start forming attachments, she needed to be more open herself. She could never tell them everything about her, but she could let herself interact with them and let them see for themselves who she was.

Livvie would have to prove how useful she could be. That meant she would need to go get her things, and bring the generator and gasoline back here. She had a nagging feeling that she should go after Shane, and Otis. Having an extra pair of hands there to watch their backs couldn't hurt. She had no idea what supplies they would need, or what they looked like, but if she was there, she could be another obstacle between the Walkers and them. Plus she didn't trust Shane. Not one bit.

Livvie found a smoky grey colored Ford Escape Hybrid, off to the side of the highway. It was dark enough to blend in to it's surroundings, but still light enough not to absorb too much of the sweltering Georgia heat. It looked like the driver had swerved to avoid something, and stopped their car off the side of the road. It looked intact. It had all four tires, they all looked fully inflated. She walked around the hood to get to the drivers side.

As she cleared the vehicle she saw a corpse on the ground near the drivers door. It looked like it was once a man. It was laying face down, and had a small revolver in it's right hand. It was obvious from the position of the remains that the man had shot himself in the head. Something glinted in the setting sun near his left hand, and Livvie walked closer to investigate.

It was the man's car keys. Livvie would have thanked the Fates, if they could have still heard her. She picked up the keys, and removed all of them that didn't belong to the car. She set the superfluous keys back down by the man's hand.

"Thank you," she said to the dead man. "Your car is going to help me survive longer in this messed up world, and I promise I'll take good care of it."

Livvie hit the keyless entry, and the car gave a little chirp as it unlocked. "Okay," she said to herself. "I'll be using _that_ sparingly."

She walked around to the back of the car and lifted the tailgate to see inside. The car's interior lacked the smell of rot and decay that permeated every molecule of air around the highway, and Livvie sighed in relief. A dead body hadn't been left to decay in the car, and there was no blood splatter to indicate a Walker had eaten someone within the car.

The back was stuffed with the man's belongings haphazardly, like all the other cars, and Livvie started taking stuff out to sort through.

She turned her head to the highway as she heard movement. Dale came walking into her sightline, and smiled at her.

"That's a real beauty," he said. "Looks intact, and I don't see any bodies inside. Plus with four wheel drive you should be able to drive right out of that ditch. Great find!" he exclaimed.

"Thanks," said Livvie softly.

"Would you like me to check under the hood while you clean out the back?" Dale asked.

"Sure," she replied gratefully. "The doors are unlocked, you should be able to just reach in the drivers door and pop the hood. But look out for the owner, he's right beside the door."

Dale rounded the front of the car, and took off his hat at the sight of the man on the ground. "Well," he said sadly. "At least he didn't suffer." He reached down and gently pried the gun from the man's hand. "He doesn't need this anymore, either."

Dale popped the hood, and called back to Livvie as he went back to the front of the car. "Gas gage says it's a little over half full. I guess we hadn't gotten over here yet to siphon fuel."

"Good," said Livvie. "Then I won't have to borrow any from you guys."

As Livvie sorted through the man's things she separated everything into piles. Clothes, food, misc useful items, and trash. She put what she wanted to keep back into the car. It wasn't much. She took his large suitcase, some razors, a pillow and some bedding, and some food and water. The back seats had been folded away so that there was more room in the back, and there was now plenty of space to fill with her own things.

Dale came around to the back of the car after he shut the hood. "It looks good to go," he told Livvie.

"Thanks again, Dale," she told him. "You guys should look through the rest of this stuff, and see what you can use. These clothes look like they'll fit Rick, and there's some ammo for that .38 here too."

"Sure thing," said Dale.

"Well," said Livvie, as she put her bag and coat in the passengers seat, and settled into the drivers seat. "I'm off! I'll go get my things from my defunct car, and grab the genny and fuel on the way back." As she talked she adjusted the seat, steering wheel, and mirrors. She started the car, and it clicked over with a soft purr. "Ah, yes! Thank you, baby!" Livvie said caressing the steering wheel. She rolled down the drivers' side window and closed the door so she could still talk to Dale as she adjusted the drivers' side mirror. Plus the pinging of the door alarm was getting on her nerves. Dale looked like he still had something to say.

"Are you sure you want to go alone?" asked Dale. "We could send someone with you, and you could check up on Shane on the way back."

Livvie shook her head. "It'll be faster if I go alone," she said. "Besides, you need all your people here to help find the little girl. I'll swing by the High School on my way back here, but if I don't get back before you guys leave, I'll meet you at the farm."

"Alright then," said Dale worriedly. "You be careful! And good luck!"

Livvie nodded to Dale politely, and then rolled up her window, and drove off. It was tricky getting out of the ditch, and around the dead man, but she hit the incline at an angle and was on the road easily enough. Then she had to dodge the dozens of cars in her way, until they thinned out enough for her to speed up. She turned on the AC on low, she didn't want to use too much gas, but she needed some cooler air. Her outfit was hot as hell. She needed it to act as armor to Walkers, but it still sucked major ass. At least she looked good wearing it.

It took her about an hour and a half to reach her broken down compact car. She drove around it, and backed up so that the rear hatch of the Escape faced the hatch back of the tiny car. She then immediately jumped out, and put her coat back on, so she could move her things over to her new car. There were a couple Walkers ambling in the vicinity. Not too many, as she had already killed several dozen in this area after her car had broken down. What could she say? She had some anger issues. She dropped them quickly with her Sig, and moved most of her meager belongings over to her new ride. She left some things that were too worn out, or that she didn't need any more.

Lastly she hopped into the drivers side of her old car to grab the stuff from the front. She emptied out the glove box, and the passengers seat and foot well, and then grabbed her rear view mirror ornament. A car wasn't hers until it sported her little stuffed frog hanging from the rear view mirror. She had won it at a carnival, when she and Faith were there tracking a Demon. Some Carnie's were actually weird for a reason. It was silly, she guessed, but it made her feel more at home in this world gone mad. Something familiar to hold onto. After she had everything she needed, she siphoned the remaining fuel from the tank, and then threw a match through the open drivers side window onto the worn out upholstery. The car went up quickly, and she drove away without a single glance back.

Maybe she was just being paranoid, but back home you didn't leave your blood around for someone to find and use against you. She doubted there were any witches here, but that car had a significant amount of her blood on the interior, and she wasn't taking any chances.

It took her 45 minutes to find the tiny dirt road that led to the church. She found a truck halfway down, with it's door open and blood everywhere. She pulled over. She wasn't interested in the truck, but she was interested in the small open trailer attached at the back. She hopped out again, and surveyed the area, before she started taking stuff off of the trailer. There was a good deal of furniture, and other useless things. After she moved a weight set off to the side she rethought it, and took the long bar to use as a weapon, and some of the smaller barbell weights to augment some other weapons with.

She kept a couple small wooden TV trays, and a couple dining room chairs, and repacked them and strapped them down. She also found an outdoor 'Zero Grav' lounge chair still in it's box, that she decided to keep. Either this person knew how to loot, or the boxed goods had already been on the trailer when the person decided to evacuate.

When Livvie was done sorting, she detached the trailer from the truck, and pulled it around to the back of her new car. Since no-one was around to see her, and it really wasn't that heavy, at least to her, she decided to avoid the awkward guess work of moving the truck, and then trying to back up to the trailer hitch. She attached it to her car easily enough, she had seen it done a time or two in her home dimension, and continued on towards the church.

Livvie had been worried about how she was going to get the generator, and the fuel barrel back out to the farm. She didn't want the generator to tear up the back of her new car, and the fumes from both it and the fuel barrel would have made it impossible to breathe in the car. She had found the generator, and the fuel barrel several days after her ickle car died, and she had moved them out to the church, one at a time, in a wheel barrow. Not fun. Not at all. It was awkward and annoying, and a long list of other things she didn't want to think about.

So, now, with her new/old trailer, she could just toss them in and be off. She reached the church a half hour later, and carefully got out to collect the things she had left here. She hauled the generator, and the fuel barrel, again one at a time, in the wheel barrow over to the trailer and secured them. Then she added the wheel barrow with a shrug. It was useful, even if it was also annoying.

Next Livvie grabbed the suitcases outfitted to store the C4, and the detonators, and carefully re-packed them with the munitions in she had left in the church. C4 went into one suitcase, with special padding to keep it from moving around, or being damaged, and the detonators went into another until all the spaces were snugly filled again. She latched the cases, and locked them with two of the three keys she had hanging on her cross necklace around her neck. The necklace had been a gift from her first Watcher when she was only a child, and ever since she had grown old enough to wear it she never took it off. She tucked the cases down into the passengers' foot well so they wouldn't bounce around too much. She had strapped down her gun safe in the back, but she wasn't taking chances with the C4.

Speaking of her gun safe, Livvie got out and moved to the back door on drivers side. She had strapped in the safe so that the door faced the back drivers' side door, and she could get into it fairly easily. She entered the combination, and used the third key on her necklace to unlock it. She took off some of her knives, and added another gun holster to her left hip. She slipped her second Sig Saur P226, with attached silencer, into the holster. She called this one Jerry. The gun on her right hip, Ben, she always kept on her. But when she knew she was in for a big fight, she brought Jerry along too. She dug out her four extra clips, with twenty rounds of 9mm hollow point ammo each, and slipped them into their places on her holsters, and her belt.

She had three boxes of her 9mm ammo left, each with 100 rounds, and it would go quickly if she wasn't careful. She opened a box and popped Ben's clip to top it off before putting it back together, and checking the chamber. She knew there was a round in there, but she checked anyway. She holstered Ben, and took Jerry out to chamber a round and take his safety off too. She shut and re-locked her safe.

Livvie moved to the back of the car, opened the hatch to get to her clothes bag and her blade duffel, and took off her coat and sword to change her shirt. She put on a cotton shirt with long leather sleeves, and tucked it into her pants. Then she added a thick, tight fitting leather vest, that zipped up almost all the way up her neck. She strapped her katana, or 'Rukia,' back on, and added a double edged Gladius, or 'Spartacus,' as well. She quickly re-braided her hair and coiled it back into a bun to make sure it was tight, and together so no Walkers could grab it. She pulled on her rose gloves, and pulled her shirt sleeves down over them to her wrists.

She inventoried her knives, and added a long kukri 'Amut,' to the arsenal on her person. She had several of her 'normal wear,' blades strapped to her waist and thighs still, she didn't name these or get attached so she could leave them behind if necessary, and she still had on her Sai's 'Elektra,' and 'Mr. Miagi' respectively. She added a sheath and some throwing knives to her forearms, a book of matches to her pocket, some safety goggles over her eyes, and figured she was armed enough to face a horde now.

Livvie got back into her car, and headed to the High School.

Livvie parked at a small strip mall near the school, and made sure the car was facing the exit. She had detached and left her trailer near the main street of a nearby town that was abandoned. There weren't any Walkers near where she left it, and she would pick it up on the way back to the farm.

She got out, locked the car, and hooked her keys to her belt with a carabineer she had attached earlier. Losing her keys would _suck_. She moved stealthily towards the High School then, and started looking for Shane and Otis. She heard gun fire, and sprinted to the back of the school, while picking off a couple of Walkers in her way with Ben and Jerry.

Livvie rounded the back of the school, and saw them. They were only a few feet in front of a horde, and both of them looked worn out, and possibly injured. She kept running, and as she did she heard Shane say, "I'm sorry."

_No!_ Livvie thought. _Don't do it, you douche!_ Livvie ran dodging cars, curbs, and Walkers as she tried to reach them in time. Then she heard the gunshot, and Otis cry out in pain as he fell to the ground. Livvie was screaming in her head as she continued forward, but it felt like she was hardly moving closer at all as she watched the scene unfold. Shane and Otis fought on the ground as the horde grew closer. Livvie started shooting at the Walkers to try and keep them away from Otis. She would have shot Shane, _the prick_, if he hadn't needed to get those supplies back to the farm. Shane didn't even seem to see her, as he struggled off away from the Walkers and Otis.

Livvie kept shooting as Otis' screams grew louder, and more heart wrenching. He was being eaten. She knew he was. She had heard the screams of pain of people being eaten entirely too often these past months. And for Otis to die! His soul had shown with more brilliance and radiance then anyone else she'd seen since the outbreak. He was _so_ good of a person. So loving and compassionate. So honest and kind. He was worth a dozen of men like Shane!

Livvie felt hot tears running down her cheeks as she raced the last few feet to Otis. As she got to him she holstered her guns, and drew her swords. She chopped and hacked at the undead, as she danced around to avoid their hands and teeth. She kicked at them to get them off of Otis. She swirled and hacked, and realized she was screaming at them too. Wordless, furious, shouts of pain, and rage.

She chopped the head of a former police officer in half as she swung Rukia at the midline of his head. Her katana was so sharp that, for a millisecond, it looked like nothing had happened. Then the top half of his head slid off and he fell to the ground oozing brain matter and black slimy blood.

She had Spartacus in her left hand, and thrust it through the head of a Walker that was attempting to sneak up behind her. She spun and hacked through two heads at once. One was a woman dressed in a designer suit and Louboutin spiked heels. Well, spike _heel_. One shoe was missing, and the woman had an uneven gait as she shuffled toward her. The other was a Paramedic, with his lower face chewed off. Their brains slid out as their bodies hit the ground with a thick SPLAT! She kicked at another in front of her as she spun again to continue her Walker massacre.

She stayed near Otis as she mowed them down. He was still alive, and pushing the former-un-dead off of him. He knew he was dead anyway, but he wanted to try and help the girl while he still drew breath. He still had eyes that were working, and he was mesmerized as Livvie danced through the mass of decaying bodies, like she was Death coming back to claim what was hers. It was beautiful, and ugly all at once. Otis could see how much she wished she could save him as she hacked through head after head, body after body.

Livvie crouched in a spin, and hacked the legs off of the bodies around her smoothly and viciously. She moved on quickly, there were so many that she had to incapacitate some of the Walkers temporarily, until she could get back to finish them off. She was moving so fast that she missed a great deal of the blood spray, and flying gore that she unleashed with her swords. She still was getting hit with it, but at least she wasn't getting covered and soaked with the black blood, bone, and brain matter.

Livvie tried not to look too closely at a short Walker as she killed it. It was a little boy. He couldn't have been more than six or seven. He was wearing footy pajamas, for Goddess' sake! Fuck the fucking government, and the mother fucking military! Granted there couldn't have been disaster plans written for something like this, but there should have been _someone_ out there who could have helped figure out a way to minimize losses!

Livvie bet that there had been several dozen people, at least, who could have helped, but that the government ignored. Like in one of those disaster movies where the scientist is all 'We have to evacuate the Western Hemisphere! The Solar Flare will burn them all to a crisp!' and the President is all 'No! Do you know how much money that would cost us? Go away!' and the next thing you know a couple billion people are dead.

When Livvie had finally cleared enough space around her and Otis, she wiped off her swords on the leg of a convenient Walker, and sheathed them. She rushed over to Otis, and knelt at his side.

"I'm so sorry I didn't get here sooner!" she exclaimed through her tears and gasping breaths.

Otis was laying on his back as he looked up at her. He was weak from extreme blood loss, and didn't have long before he would bleed to death. "It's not your fault," he whispered brokenly. "You tried to help me, and I'm thankful for that."

Livvie suddenly turned away to throw a couple of her wrist knives, but she turned back to him quickly. "Don't worry," Livvie told him as strongly as she could. "I'll not let you turn into one of them. After you're unconscious, I'll do it myself." She rested her hand on the top of his head comfortingly. One of his ears was missing, but she ignored it, and looked him in the eyes. "Anything you want me to tell your girl?" she asked.

"Don't tell her what Shane did." He said weakly. "It will break her heart. Tell her I died well, and bravely, and that I don't regret it. As long as that boy gets the help he needs, I'm alright with the dyin' part." His breathing was labored, and they both knew he didn't have long. "Tell her I love her, and I'll always be with her. Tell the Greene's that I love them too, and that I'm thankful for all the time I had with them, and for the kindness they've shown me all these years. Tell Rick that I said 'You're welcome,' if the boy makes it, and 'I'm sorry' if he don't. I did my best to help his boy."

"Yes," Livvie told him. "You did. You did a fine job of it too, Otis. If he makes it, it'll be because of you. Shane is too stupid to have gotten the supplies Hershel needed on his own." She paused for a second. "What about Shane? Should I tell the others? Do you want me to kill him? I will, just say the word, and he's gone."

"No," Otis sighed. "Don' tell no one, an' don' kill 'im." His enunciation was fading as he got weaker. "Tell Shane I forgive 'im," said Otis. "An' make sure he don' hurt no one else." Otis gasped for breath. "Take me home?" he asked so softly that if Livvie wasn't a Slayer, she wouldn't have heard him. "I don' wan' ta git eaten up." His mind was starting to fail too, but Livvie understood.

"I'll take you back home, Otis. Don't worry about that, they won't be able to touch you with me around," said Livvie.

"Than' yoo," Otis replied. "I thin' I'll go ta slee' now Liv," he said and closed his eyes.

"That's right honey," Livvie said softly. "Go to sleep now, I'll watch over you."

Otis' mouth barely curved up at the corners, and he exhaled slowly. He didn't breath in again. Livvie bowed her head for a moment in grief.

After the short moment she gathered herself to do what needed to be done. She took out a knife, and gently lifted Otis' head to rest it in her lap. She lifted his head just enough to get her knife aimed where she wanted it, and then she struck. She stabbed him in the back of the head, at the base of his skull, with the end of the blade pointed towards his forehead. She quickly pulled it free, and laid him back down on the ground. She wiped her knife off on the shoulder of his jacket, and put it away.

Livvie then pulled her guns, an popped the clips. They were both empty, except for one in the chamber, and she quickly exchanged the empty clips for full ones. She stood and turned in a circle, taking out the dozen or so Walkers that had wondered over during Otis' last moments. She then put away her guns, and walked over to a nearby tarp. It was blue, and had been set up over a few tables. She guessed it had served some function for FEMA before the situation turned from FUBAR to OMFG!WAGTD! The later being the state of '_**OH MY FUCKING GODESS! WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!**_' Believe it or not, Livvie had been in a couple of OMFG!WAGTD! worthy situations herself _before_ the Walker outbreak. Such is the life of an active Slayer.

Livvie cut the ropes holding the tarp to the tent frame, and took it over to Otis. She gathered half of it up in her hands, lengthwise, and set it next to Otis' body. If she wasn't a Slayer she never would have been able to move him. She scooted him over onto the tarp, and then rolled him onto his side so she could pull the rest of the tarp flat. She gently rolled him back onto his back, and wrapped him in the tarp. She used the ropes to secure it, and then stood to shoot a couple more Walkers, as she thought of what to do next.

As she turned around she saw an ambulance several hundred yards away, across the back parking lot from her and Otis. She rushed over to it, and rounded the back. There was a Walker, still undead, strapped to the gurney. Livvie carefully undid the brakes of the gurney, and pulled it out. She unlocked the legs of the gurney, and they dropped into place as she slid it out. She then put her gun to the Walkers' temple and fired. She unbuckled him, grabbed the sheet under him, and threw them both off of her gurney. She put the gurney back in the ambulance and closed the doors.

Next Livvie went to see about the cab of the ambulance. Lucky for her, unlucky for the driver, it seemed that a Walker had decided to pull the driver out of the cab to eat him. There was blood splatter on the seat and steering wheel. She hurried to the back of the ambulance, and grabbed a canister of disinfecting wipes from next to the doors. After she had wiped down the seat and the steering wheel, she got in to see about the keys. She shut the door, and leaned around the steering column. The keys were still in the ignition. She looked at the many and sundry switches to the right of the steering wheel, and switched the one labeled 'siren' to 'off.'

Crossing her fingers Livvie turned the key. The engine came alive with a dull roar. Shit, she had to move fast. She jerked the gear shift into drive, and sped over to Otis. She slammed the gear shift back to park and jumped out of the cab. She headed around to the back, shooting more stragglers on the way. She only had five bullets left in Jerry, and four in Ben. She opened the doors, and pulled the gurney out again, before collapsing it to the ground next to Otis. It took a lot of clever maneuvering, and more time than she really had to get him on the gurney, strapped in, and up into the back of the ambulance.

As Livvie slammed the back doors shut, she breathed a sigh of relief. On her way back to the front she had to shoot seven Walkers, which meant she was back to one in the barrel for both of her guns. She hopped in the drivers seat, and locked herself in. '_Let's see how an ambulance does when running down Walkers,'_ Livvie thought, grinning in morbid glee.

When Livvie pulled up the winding dirt road of the Greene homestead, there were people on the porch, and in the front yard. She could see Shane leaning against the front of a truck. She decided to turn right, and park the ambulance behind the stables. She would wait for the right time to tell everyone where Otis was. She got out, and took the keys with her, locking the cab, and then moving to the back to lock those doors so no-one would disturb Otis' body.

They were already open. The back of the ambulance was empty. She must not have shut the doors tightly enough, or maybe she hadn't secured the gurney right. Either way Otis and the gurney were now missing. Dammit! She had promised to bring him home, and now he was out there somewhere, in the middle of the road. Livvie decided she would go back out there tomorrow and find him. Right now she needed to clean up, eat, and rest. Then she could go find Otis, and retrieve her car, and the trailer.

There was something bugging her Slayer Sense, but she couldn't quite figure it out. She'd felt it when she was here earlier too, but she couldn't figure it out then either. It was like she was sensing a group of Walkers near-by, but she didn't see any anywhere. They didn't seem to be coming closer, she couldn't hear them or smell them, so she shrugged it off fro now. She would keep an extra careful eye out, but she wasn't feeling too big of a threat right now. She would wait until tomorrow to investigate further.

Defeated, Livvie walked up to the farmhouse in a tired shuffle. When she got there she saw it was Rick and Lori on the porch. She ignored Shane. "Hey, Rick," she said to him softly. "How's Carl doing?"

"He's in surgery right now," replied Rick. "We got the medical supplies in time, and Hershel's working on him."

Livvie gave a soft smile, "Good," she said as she looked to Lori. "I'm Olivia McKinley, you must be Lori." She started to reach out her hand to shake Lori's when she noticed she still had her gloves on, and they were bloody. She let her hand drop down to her side. "Oops," she said. "I'll be sure to get back to you on that handshake after I'm cleaned up a bit."

"Nice to meet you, Livvie," Lori said softly. At Livvie's confused look, Lori explained. "Rick told me about you. Thank you for helping get Carl here, so he could get help."

"Of course," said Livvie. "I was glad to help."

Heavy footsteps came towards them, and Livvie turned so her back wouldn't be towards the incoming Shane.

"Why're you so mussed up there, Livvie?" Shane asked suspiciously. Rudely.

"Oh, I was just having a rasstle with your mama, Smokey. We've been having a secret affair for years! Your daddy just couldn't make her come anymore, and I, very eagerly, stepped up to the plate," Livvie said with a leer.

Shane stepped threateningly towards Livvie. "Don't you talk about my mama, you bitch!" he yelled in her face.

Livvie's face turned into a glare, and her eyes burned into Shane's with hate, and promises of slow painful death. "Then mind your own damn business, asshole!" she growled. Shane stumbled back a step, as his instincts screamed in terror.

Lori was looking between the two with wide eyes, trying to figure out what was going on. Rick, ever the peace maker, intervened. "Now, you two, just calm the hell down," he said to them. "We don't need this right now, alright?" His brows were knit together in confusion. He looked at Livvie, "Smokey?" He asked a little fearfully. He both wanted to know, and didn't want to know.

Livvie smirked evilly. Rick was now sure he _didn't_ actually want to know.

"Well," she said sweetly. Too sweetly. "If you're Ranger Rick, then Shane's got to be Smokey The Bear. I mean, he has the pants after all." She explained.

"I'm not a Ranger," explained Rick. Slowly. "I'm a Deputy Sheriff."

"Oh, I know that! But the hat is just too perfect! And you're name is Rick, so I have now dubbed you Ranger Rick, and there's nothing you can do about it!" she said with a smirk.

Rick rubbed his face as he shook his head. Lori put her hand on his shoulder comfortingly, but she had a tiny smirk on one side of her face.

Shane was obviously fuming. Livvie didn't care.

"Why are you covered in blood?" Shane bit out through clenched teeth.

"Oh, please!" snarked Livvie. "I am not 'covered in blood.' I'm a little messy, sure! But it's not _that_ bad."

Shane looked like he was about to have a stroke. Livvie was pleased with this. "I've been out killing Walkers, you moron," Livvie told Shane.

"Walkers? Where?" panicked Shane, turning in a circle. "Are they in the woods? Rick, I need ammo!"

"No, Shane," Livvie said coolly, with a hint of maliciousness. "At the High School."

Shane paled significantly.

"I went there to make sure you and Otis were okay," Livvie continued. "But you were already gone. So I killed a few dozen Walkers, you know, since I was there anyways."

Shane looked relieved, and also confused.

"A few dozen," breathed Lori. "You're kiddin,' right?"

"No," replied Livvie. "I must have killed, like, a hundred and sixty of 'em."

Lori looked at all the weapons strapped all over Livvie. "With yer guns? You have that much ammunition?" Lori asked.

"No," Livvie answered. "I took out maybe seventy-nine, with my guns. The rest I took out with my swords, and my knives. Oh, and an ambulance."

Silence. The crickets kept on chirping happily, as the people in the yard stared at each other.

"Look," started Livvie, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter right now. What matters right now is that Carl makes it through his surgery. We can talk about the rest later," she finished.

Shane glared at Livvie one last time, and then went back over to the truck. The rest of them settled in to wait for news on Carl.

Hershel came out, and told everyone that Carl was going to make it. Livvie was pleased with the news. Carl was a cute little guy, and smart too. She wanted to get to know him better.

Rick went with Hershel to tell Patricia what had happened to Otis. Livvie would have gone too, if she hadn't lost Otis' body. It would have been a comfort to these people to have his body, and Livvie was very disappointed in herself for losing him.

Maggie found her, and after finding out that she had left her car elsewhere, offered her some clean clothes to change into. She would have to wait for Shane to finish his shower, and then she could bathe. With hot water. Yes! In the meantime, Maggie got her something to eat, and she inhaled it gratefully.

After Livvie was washed, and changed, she headed out to clean off her weapons, and her gloves. When she was done she bundled them up with her dirty clothes, grabbed her semi-clean shirt off the tree where she had left it to dry earlier, and set off to find a place to sleep. She ran into Glenn as she walked through his groups' hastily erected camp.

"You got a place to sleep?" Glenn asked.

"Not yet. I left all my stuff in my car, and my car is still over near the High School, so I don't have my tent or sleeping bag." Livvie told him.

"Well," said Glenn. "I've got an extra bag, and plenty of room left over in my tent, if you want. I promise to be a complete gentleman!"

Livvie smiled at him. "Thank you," she said. "I'd really appreciate it. And, just so you know, I sleep with this," here she pulled out her large kukri Amut. "Under my pillow. So, I won't have to worry about if you, or anyone else, is a gentleman or not." Her eyes shifted over to Shane, and he looked up as if feeling her glare. His eyes widened at the sight of her unsheathed blade. She quirked an eyebrow at him challengingly. He looked away.

"O-Okay," squeaked Glenn. Livvie put her knife away. "Right this way," he told her with a shaky smile. He was probably rethinking his gracious offer.

After she had her things settled into Glenn's tent, and her borrowed sleeping bag set out, she headed out to do a brief perimeter check before bed. Andrea, Dale, Carol, and Daryl were still out on the freeway according to Glenn. They should make their way over in the morning. When she was satisfied that she was safe enough, for now, she headed back to Glenn's tent to sleep.

When she stepped into the tent, and zipped it shut, she saw that Glenn was already asleep. He was snoring, daintily. It wasn't loud and obnoxious, but rather quiet and cute. Like a little baby snore. Livvie smiled to herself as she slipped into her borrowed sleeping bag, and cuddled into her borrowed pillow. She checked to make sure Amut was where she wanted her, and unsheathed, and then settled in to sleep.

"… or if it's just a habit," said Andrea. She and Daryl were walking in the woods looking for Sophia, and they had happened across a camp site. They had also happened across the former resident of said campsite, and were watching him as he hung from a tree growling and snarling at them.

"Waste of an arrow," said Daryl, aiming for the Walker.

"Wait," said Andrea, suddenly. "If you show me how, we can use my new gun." She pulled the gun from where it was tucked into the back of her pants.

The silencer was now attached, and a more garish, girlish, thing Daryl had never seen. Pink, it was! Engraved with vines, and little flowers, with the name 'GiGi' engraved along it's length. He shuddered mildly. A gun should not be, should _never_ be, pink!

Andrea kept the barrel of the gun pointed to the ground, as she waited for Daryl to tell her what to do. He swung his crossbow over his shoulder, and reached for the gun hesitantly. If Merle ever found out he had even _touched_ this sham of a weapon, he would never hear the end of it. He stayed close to Andrea as he showed her what he was doing to the gun.

"Firs' ya gotta chamber a round," said Daryl. He slid the slide back, and did so. "Then ya take off the safety," he flipped it with his finger so the red dot was showing. "Now, ya gotta aim," he continued. "An don' point it at anythin, _ever_, that you don' intend on killin.' An' ya better never point it at me," he said sternly.

Daryl helped Andrea grip the gun correctly, and then, with her permission, he stepped behind her and reached around to help her aim. "Now," he said. "Breathe. Ya gotta keep breathing, or yer gonna mess up, or pass out. Plant yer' feet shoulder width apart," he kicked her ankles until he was satisfied with her stance. "Keep yer finger on the trigger guard until yer ready to fire. When yer ready, put yer finger on tha trigger, and gently squeeze, don't pull, as you breathe out."

Andrea was shaking slightly. It had been months since she had been this close to a guy. And here she was, with _Daryl Dixon's_ arms around her, and she was getting a bit turned on. He did have nice arms, but this was _Daryl Dixon_! She shook her head, and followed Daryl instructions. She took a breath, and as she let it out, she squeezed the trigger. The recoil took her by surprise, but Daryl made sure she didn't drop the gun. The bullet went wide, and completely missed the Walkers' head.

Daryl adjusted her arms, and stepped back from her. "Thas' okay, jus try again. And keep a hold of yer gun! It ain't no good to ya if'n ya drop it!"

It took Andrea three more tries to get the Walker in the head, and then she put the safety back on her weapon. After every shot, Daryl had given her advice on her technique; Her stance, her grip, her aim. She could feel herself getting better with every word of advice he spoke.

"There ya go!" he encouraged, as the Walker finally stopped moving. Seriously, he sounded encouraging! Andrea didn't know he had it in him! And he was the only person, other than Livvie, who seemed to think her capable of handling a gun.

"Thank you, Daryl," Andrea said sincerely. "It really means a lot to me that you would help me with this. Really. Thank you."

"Ah, ain't nothin'" said Daryl.

And was that…? Yes, it was! Andrea swore that she just saw him blushing!

"Let's git back," Daryl changed the subject briskly. "That can' be comfortable," he said as Andrea stuck the gun back in her pants.

Andrea chuckled. "No, it's not. But I haven't figured out how to put on the holster that came with it."

"I can help ya figure it out, if ya want," offered Daryl. "It can't be tha' hard."

"I'd like that," responded Andrea. She refrained from saying 'Thank you,' again, as she could tell it made him uncomfortable. They were silent as they made their way back to Dale, and Carol.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I am making no money off of this story. I do not mean anything religious with this story. I am using a fictional interpretation of 'God' etc, as is done in Buffy. I do not mean any offense to anyone. I do not own 'Zero Grav.' Outdoor lounge chairs, nor do I own or have any affiliation with Ford or the Escape Hybrid. I do not own Sig Saur firearms, or anything associated with them. I do not own Ben & Jerry's, Rukia, Elektra, Amut, Spartacus, or Mr. Miagi. I don't even know if I spelled that right. ;) I don't own Smokey the Bear, or Ranger Rick, although I've always been a big fan of the little Raccoon Ranger in his little hat.


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